


Prizefighters

by Liara_90



Category: RWBY
Genre: Canon Compliant, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Future Fic, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Sparring, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Writing Exercise, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 01:48:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12002382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liara_90/pseuds/Liara_90
Summary: A sparring match between Sun Wukong and Lie Ren gets more than a little passionate.This is shameless smut, be ye warned.





	Prizefighters

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing proper M/M sex scenes, which was really what I was trying to practice below. I normally consider the actual sex scenes in my smut fics to be the weakest part, but this is going to be basically 100% that. Any feedback would be GREATLY appreciated.

SIX YEARS AFTER THE FALL OF BEACON 

VALE CITY LIMITS 

TWENTY MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT 

"Last chance to just give up, hot stuff," you taunt, your feet dancing across the ground as you circle your enemy. "I wouldn't want to _embarrass you_ in front of your sweetheart." 

Ren growls almost inaudibly, doing his best to tune out the trash talk that flows from your mouth almost unthinkingly. His own footwork is practically the antithesis of your own - he keeps his feet planted firmly to the ground, shifting by a matter of degrees to keep you straight in front of him. It was too much to hope that you'd be able to slip out of his view, even for a fraction of a second, but you had to try. 

Some part of your brain realizes that ' _I had to try_ ' might as well be the Wukong family motto. 

"If you think you're going to distract me with vulgarities," Ren begins, steadying his breathing as he slides a fraction of an inch closer, "you're going to be sorely-" 

You leap at him before he can finish his sentence, a flying kick aimed square at his head. Ren would probably claim that that was unsporting, but then, he'd learned to fight in his father's dojo. You'd learned on the streets, and they hadn't been nearly as concerned with ' _fair play_ '. 

Ren doesn’t even look surprised as he deflects your kick, barely shifting his weight as he redirects your momentum with a sweep of his hand. He was expecting that, of course. Just as you were. You land on the ground without losing an ounce of momentum, your flying kick suddenly transforming into a low trip. _That_ manages to knock Ren off his feet, but he's no less adept at recovery than you are, and he easily fends off your attempt at a grapple. The two of you are back on your respective feet a moment later, already sweating. The pumping of your heart seems like a thundering echo in your ears. 

"Break his legs, Ren!" Nora shouts from somewhere beside you. You don't dare let your eyes wander at this point, but a smile comes to your face regardless. Some things really do never change. 

"Please, _don't_ ," requests another voice from the audience, this one the melodic lilt of one Blake Belladonna, music to your ears despite the obvious weariness in her tone. "He's supposed to clean out the spare bedroom tomorrow." 

You smirk, taking a dozen half-steps as Lie Ren tries to feint you out - it (almost) never works. "Love you, too," you say, to both women at once. And as pained as they might be to admit it, it's true. 

Ren grows impatient - not that he'd ever admit it, of course - and comes at you with a flurry of blows that takes a lifetime of martial experience to fend off. And ' _fend off_ ' is putting it rather generously - your forearms and biceps still take a beating as they shield the squishier parts of your body. You let out a short gasp, your muscles quivering with the pounding. You're tough, but you sure as shit have a breaking point. 

For all your trouble, though, you manage to get in one good kick, the sole of your bare foot impacting with a resounding _thud_ against Ren's sternum. He coughs and staggers backward, wiping sweat-mottled hairs from the front of his face. It's probably the only real weakness in his fighting philosophy - Ren was raised to avoid just _absorbing_ blows as much as possible, because dodging a punch is always preferable to _taking_ one. Most traditional martial artists hold a similar worldview, you've noticed over the years. While you prefer _not_ to get hit as much as the next dude, sometimes taking one (or twenty) on the arm is worth it, if it gets you where Lie doesn't think you'll be… 

"What are you waiting for, _keep going_!" Yang Xiao Long demands. Her voice is ragged with excitement. She's got twenty lien on you, after all. " _Attack_!" 

You're smart enough not to take her advice - Ren's only a fraction as tired as he looks, even as he hunches low, the fingertips of his right hand brushing against the tatami. 

"Getting tired, _sensei_?" you tease, trying to keep from panting. Your tail swishes unthinkingly behind you, flowing through the air at an erratic tempo. 

"Not as tired as you are," Ren shoots back. "And if _that_ demonstrates what you're taking away from my _kata_ drills, then I have truly failed you." 

You manage to grin even as another barrage of fists heads your way. _Maidens_ he's good. You block the first dozen-odd strikes but he just _keeps coming_ , throwing in knees and elbows and damn well near any other part of his body that can collide painfully with yours. The hits are beginning to seep through your Aura, and scrapes and bruises are sure to follow. You wince as Ren managed to slide a kick beneath your guard, his foot slamming into your kidney. Then an open-palmed slap strikes your head, sending you reeling backwards, and only your prehensile tail keeps you from toppling over entirely. 

You quickly run through a list of anyone you might be able to sweet-talk into giving you a massage when this is all over. 

"Don't be so hard on yourself," you say in reassurance to Ren, batting off a few probing jabs. "I've never exactly been a great student." 

"We can agree on that much," Ren murmurs. And before you can so much as blink, his hand is gripping your heel, and he's diving to the mat with you. 

You land _hard_ , the air practically forced from your lungs as you fall flat on your back, crying out despite yourself as the hyper-sensitive nerves of your simian tail are pinched. You force your eyes open, taking in for a second the upside-down forms of the boisterous crowd egging on the ~~beat down~~ sparring match. Apart from Ren, Ruby and Jaune are the only two wearing proper fighting _gi_ \- everyone else is in whatever assortment of gym clothes they happened to bring with them that night. The harsh light from the ceiling catches on Yang's arm for a moment, a shiny glint forcing you to blink. 

You manage to push-kick Ren off you. For all his skill, you've always had more sheer muscle then him - but you're fighting for pride and dignity now. Being pinned in less than two minutes is _not_ how you'd envisioned this match playing out, as logical and outcome as it no doubt was. 

Ren doesn't bother standing upright, instead he's grappling with his arms and legs, trying to get enough leverage to pin you to the tatami. Again, you out-weight him, which is a marginal point to your advantage, but quite frankly Ren knows what he's doing a helluva lot better than you do. Out on the streets, with Ruyi Bang and Jingu Bang in your hands and mind for chaotic improvisation, you're pretty sure you could take Ren. Or at the very least, put up a _damn_ good fight. But here - on an empty mat, stripped of weapons and Semblances - the odds are stacked against you. It's just too damn _fair_ for someone with a street fighter's mentality. 

He slips inside your grip, and once more you're on your back. You're wearing only jeans - going shirtless means denying Ren handy lapels to grab hold of - and you feel the weight of his torso pressing down atop yours. You try to kick with your legs but he's already there, his feet hook your ankles and fly apart, leaving your legs spread and deprived of anything to push against. One of his arms slides around your neck, trapping you in a vice-like hold, his free hand catching your wrist before you can do anything useful with it. You can feel each breath he takes even over your own exhaustion, the scent of his sweat, his skin on yours… 

" _Five_!" cries a high-pitched voice from the sidelines, signaling that the ref is starting to count down. Ruby might have more scars than the rest of you combined, but her voice still hadn't changed much since adolescence. To her ever-growing annoyance. " _Four!_ " 

You need to do something, _fast_. You tense just about every muscle in your body, searching for the slightest bit of leeway. Ren's muscles might as well be banded with iron, for all the give you can find. He's staring down at you, expression resolute, remorseless. A streak of pink hair tickles your nose. " _Three!_ " 

You lean forward and kiss him. 

It's like the _millionth_ time you've kissed but it catches Ren off-guard regardless. He really does take these sparring bouts _way_ too seriously. Despite the sweat his lips feel dry against yours, almost chapped, their shape distinct and familiar. ( _You're still kissing_ ) No one else has lips quite like- 

-The kiss is broken. Well, that's a little passive. You forced your lips apart, having exploited the smallest loosening of his grip to twist free and spin to freedom. Ren's _way_ more a softie than he'll ever admit, and he scrambles to his feet with none of his usual deftness. You're grinning from ear-to-ear now, even if it means you just earned yourself an even merciless- _er_ pummeling in the next two minutes… 

"Ref! That's cheating! _Disqualification_!" 

Weiss is calling you a scoundrel. Yup, things _really do_ never change. 

Unfortunately for your sparring record, though, Ruby Rose is nodding in agreement. "Illegal move from Sun Wukong. Lie Ren is the victor." She makes a decisive chopping motion with her arm, which seems to officialize it. 

_Well, you had to try_ . 

You have a wry grimace, Ren has a smug smile, everyone else is yelling something at Ruby. You tune them out for a few seconds, circling back to around the middle of the mat, a few feet opposite Ren. He bows with a graceful elegance that you can next quite manage, which you make up for by bowing lower. You've never been big on rules and ceremony, but it's kind of a nice touch. 

Doesn't stop you from following-up in your own way, of course. "Good match, man," you say, with labored breaths, drawing him in for a hug. It's a bit too long to pass off as the casual gesture of two close bros, but you've long stopped caring about that. Instead you just hang there for a while, or at least a few seconds, nuzzling unthinkingly in the nape of Ren's neck… 

…"It wasn't a _kiss_ ," comes Yang's pleading voice, desperately trying to win over her sister. Unfortunately for her, Ruby's the closest thing to ' _absolutely impartial_ ' that this group has. "They just… bumped into each other. With their mouths." 

"Oh, _please_ ," Weiss fires back, indignantly. "As if Sun just _accidentally_ pressed his lips against Ren for a whole five seconds." Ruby's nodding in agreement, of course, though she shoots you an apologetic look and the ghost of a smile. Her _gi_ is Grimm black with a crimson trim around the edges, and her bare foot taps impatiently against the mat as she waits for her sisters/friends/Weiss to stop bickering. "The only way Sun could escape is if he slipped a bit of _tongue_ in there." She sounds vaguely revolted by her own mental image. "Isn't that right, Ren?" 

Ren smiles that little half-smile of his as the two of you make your way to the squabble. _Mischievous_ , that's the word. He glances your way, and there's a glint to his eye. "If you'd like," he begins, his voice gentle and sonorous, "I'd be happy to recreate it. For refereeing purposes." 

" _Thaaat's_ really not necessary," Ruby states, taking a step backwards, but of course Ren's hand is around your jaw and then his lips are against yours. Ren kisses slower than you do, more ' _lovemaking_ ' and less ' _hungry devouring_ ', but you really don't mind. He's cradling your head in both hands, pulling you together as the tempo quickens incrementally. Your own hands slink around his waist, slipping beneath the heavy fabric of the _gi_ until you find his back, cool with sweat. Your fingers press in to the musculature along his spine, eliciting a sub-vocal _hum_ of pleasure. 

He'd lied. Your mid-fight kiss was nowhere near as good. 

Ren breaks the kiss, glancing expectantly at the audience. Ruby, of course, is the only one not openly staring, preferring instead to scratch the back of her head, apparently. "I mean that's really not what the first kiss was like but my point still stands and Ren'sthewinnersorrySun…" 

Some part of your mind always wonders how the universe works. Ruby Rose is the whole reason you're all _together_ together, after all. The causal thread that entwined yours souls. It's one of those cosmic ironies that she's the only one who'd rather hang back on the sidelines, forever the lone wolf. 

"Yeah, there was less tongue the first time," you agree, a little teasingly, even as one of your hands drifts a bit lower than Ren's lower back. He doesn't tense up, but there're a hundred little quivers in his muscles that telegraph that he felt it. "Shame that _someone_ had to break it up." 

You cast a mock scowl at Ruby, who manages to shoot a very _real_ one back in your direction, despite her furious blushing. She hates being pegged as the puritanical chaperone, not that that stops anyone from teasing her about it. 

"Oh, don't feel obliged to stop on our behalf," Blake pipes up, even as you lower yourself to the mat so you can properly catch your breath. "Not all of us are such prudes." 

"I'm not a prude," Ruby sulks. Ren crouches down behind you, and a heartbeat later you feel his hands on your deltoids, applying pressure like literally no other human in Remnant can, as far as you're concerned. Your eyes drift shut. 

" _We know you're not_ ," you hear Yang say, her voice gentler now that the boisterousness of the match is fading. " _But Sun's wandering lips just cost me twenty lien_." 

Ren's lips find the nape of your neck. He might be a slower kisser but he's never soft - he presses his lips firmly each and every time, an audible seal forming and breaking with each ministration. He leans you back, guiding you gently until you're lying on the mat, face up, eyes closed. You barely move - not that you really _could_ move even if you wanted to, given how sore every inch of skin is feeling. Ren's straggling your hips, pausing momentarily to cast off his _gi_ top, so you're both clad only in pants. 

" _Speaking of costs, will you be paying me_ now _, Yang, or should I just add this to your ever-growing debt?_ " Ren's hands resume their massage, returning to their familiar perches around your shoulders for a minute (or twenty, who can tell?). And then they're drifting south, dancing over biceps and pectorals with equal attention to both. 

" _Gimme a few minutes,"_ Yang answers, distantly. " _I gotta see._ " 

" _See what_?" 

" _If that was a twenty lien kiss_." 

(Oh, was it ever.) 

Ren's pulling your pants off, the accommodating tilt of your hips his tacit consent to go farther. Your briefs are white and unremarkable- 

"- _Shattered Moon_ he's like a fucking underwear model-" 

-but sometimes it's better not to distract from the main attraction. 

"I see there's one part of you that's still has some strength it in," Ren muses, as his hands slide down your thighs. 

"Well… _yeah_ …" is the absolute wittiest response you can come up with. Thankfully, Ren's never held your artless tongue against you. Your tongue makes up for it in other ways. 

The massage lasts a few more minutes. And it really _is_ a massage - Ren's hands move from your thighs to your calves to your groin, alleviating the worst of the soreness before it even has time to set in. He might be a slave-driver when it comes to getting you all in fighting form, but he's never quite able to suppress the pangs of guilt that come with beating your friends (rather literally) in an all-out sparring match. 

You've decided you're okay with that. 

"How are you feeling, Sun?" he asks you, sliding up so he's resting on one arm beside your head. His other hand is still between your legs, brushing along the border where skin meets fabric but never _quite_ crossing over. 

He usually asks that question, or something like it. He's a bit of a sweetheart that way. "You know, I am doing _pretty_ okay," you say with a snort, your arms stretching out as you speak. "How 'bout you?" 

"Can't complain…" Ren says, speaking even softer than usual. "…Do you want to give them a show?" 

"Pretty sure we already are," you reply with a grin, tilting your head forward to plant a quick kiss. 

"Well then…" your boyfriend replies, without elaboration. He slides back to your hips, fingers curling around the waistband of your underwear. And there they remain for several long, _long_ seconds, knowing this was like some kind of collaborative striptease. 

He tugs your underwear off, freeing your erection, and wastes no time in spoiling it with brushes. You're already rock-hard from the touch of his massage, but the feel of his hand around your dick is still something else entirely. 

" _Ohhhhh_ …" is all you can say. 

His hands move in slow and deliberate pumps - at least for now - giving you time to just luxuriate in the decadence of it all. There might be an audience but there's _certainly_ no rush. Ruby's already shown herself the door, and Ren's easy pacing gives Jaune and Weiss time to excuse themselves, once it becomes clear that it's going to be one of _those_ nights. 

Ren plants himself between your thighs, the fabric of his pants against your legs, his free hand sliding to gently cup your balls, and probe lower still. You're probably not going to go _too_ crazy tonight, but the pressure of that wandering index finger makes you _groan_ with erogenous abandon. 

His hand's pumping faster now, the pressure around the head of your member growing firmer. Your lips part and stay parted, nostrils flared. You've long held that Ren gives the best handjobs out of anyone in Remnant, which has a certain logic to it, you figure, what with the decade of masturbatory practice and all. Though you idly wonder if that means you'll never be able pleasure the fairer sex as well as the Sapphic lovers amongst them can. Because that'd be depressing… 

… nope, not depressing, just…. _sensuous moaning_. Ren's hand is bringing you to climax just as another finger slips between your ass cheeks. That hand withdraws, causing you to groan, but it's pressed against your chest a moment later. That touch - the feeling of being _pressed down_ \- is the final bit of stimuli to bring you over the edge. 

For a few seconds you do nothing but breathe, feeling only the pleasurable release of pressure from your dick, a throbbing need relieved. Your spurt coated your dick and Ren's hand, pent-up from a week without release, and all the more cathartic for it. 

" _Oh… come on…it was just getting good._ " 

You prop yourself up on your elbows, grinning happily, at the sight of Blake ensconced in Yang. Blake has always been the trailblazer when it came to getting the group over its collective sexual inhibitions, and just moments ago she'd been perfectly comfortable with having Yang's strokes bring her to climax while she took in the live show. 

"Yeah," Nora chimes in. Unlike Blake and Yang she doesn't have a hand (hers or anyone else's) in her shorts, but there's a definite _flush_ to her cheeks that wasn't there a few minutes ago. "And besides, _Ren_ won. Hardly seems fair." 

"Ladies, please, I promise you that the show will go on," you say, flashing your palms to them. "Assuming you're up for it, Ren?" you ask, your voice dropping the showman's bravado you'd adopted. 

Ren's still wiping the worst of your mess on his _gi_ pants, but his smile hasn't lost any of its amusement. "I'll let you know if I get uncomfortable," he promises, before leaning in for an extended kiss. 

He's never been _shy_ , your Lie Ren, so much as _introverted_ . Though he's still easily the most vanilla amongst you. It's hardly the first time that you've 'made love' while your more voyeuristic roommates follow along, but it was still something usually done in bedrooms and on whims, fleeting street performances rather than center-stage at the opera house. Ren's hardly an exhibitionist, but you know he likes making everyone happy, and sometimes the ladies enjoy some live _yaoi_. 

Which you, of course, intend to give them. Not that you're untying the drawstring on Ren's pants for _them_ , but if there're some collateral benefits down the road… 

"Do you want me lying down or standing up?" Ren asks. 

"Standing," you say, a little too quickly. "It always feels better." 

Ren remains silent as he stands in front of you, nude and ready. You're on your knees in front of him, resting on your heels. Your tail's swishing slowing, as it tends to when you get _really_ into something. It might look like showboating, but you take a moment to appreciate just how fucking hot your lover is. You might have more muscle but his definition is _way_ better than yours. His abs might as well be chiseled from marble, and that's a heavy compliment coming from you. 

He even smells good. ( _Tea and sweat. Who'd have thought?_ ) 

His dick's already hard by the time you slip it into your mouth. You can hear Ren murmur pleasurably at the sensation, however much he tries to remain silent during sex. That's fine with you, you've never been the kind of guy who needs to hear orgasmic shouts to believe the sex was ' _good for you, too_ '. You're _way_ too attuned to need to ask. 

You start slowly, of course, lips and tongue hovering around his head. Your hands curl around the backs of his thighs, which Ren swears he likes almost as much as your mouth. 

You don't _quite_ believe him when he says that, but it's a cute thought. 

After a minute or two you taste pre-cum in your mouth, and you set about ramping up the experience. One hand goes to the base of Ren's shaft, applying pressure while your head bobs a little lower. The other hand begins stroking your own dick - your turnaround time, so to speak, is pretty quick - before that hand, too, makes its way to Ren's groin. 

His hand finds your hair, fingers curling with just a _little_ less than his usual delicacy. Inwardly, you smile. Never in your life have you (or anyone else) gotten Ren to let loose with complete abandon, no matter how mind-blowing the sex is, but every iota of emotional release is a victory in your books. 

You take a few, moderating breaths through your nostrils, then push deeper. His erect penis fills your mouth and then some, depressing your tongue, his hands providing unthinking guidance for your head. You love the sensation. You're careful to avoid teething anything as you slide down further still. You have a gag reflex but you've long learned to suppress it, along with any fleeting sense of panic that used to arise from deepthroating. (Nothing a toothbrush, a mirror, and twice-daily practice couldn't overcome). 

Ren murmurs something, and you slide back a bit so you can easily look him in the eye. On closer inspection it sounds like he's just muttering your name, breathing it with each exhale. _Sun… Sun… Sun…_ Oh yeah, that's _definitely_ a win… 

You pull off his dick for a few seconds, one hand taking your lips' place to maintain the pressure. The change in sensation causes Ren to look down on you, at that devil-may-care smile on your face. "I love you, Sun," is what he says, and those words _still_ make your chest swell. 

"Love you too, man," you reply, with none of his gentleness, but all the same sentiment. And you really, _really_ do. You just happen to find him the hottest fucking thing with a Y chromosome, too. 

His dick's back in your mouth, your hands at his balls, his fingers in your hair. _Yeah, this is good_. His hips gyrate unthinkingly towards you, his stance shuffles an inch closer to move that much deeper inside you. You feel the climax building, so you lean back, letting your hand apply _just_ the right amount of pressure to his head. You open your mouth… 

…and he cums in it, the sensation warm and sticky and welcome. You're rock-hard again yourself, and it feels _so_ right to bring Ren to release like this. You use your mouth and your tongue to wipe the semen off his dick. Your whole face is going to smell like it by the time you're done, but you've never cared before, and aren't about to start now. 

"Thank you, Sun," says Ren, with something close to a whimper, lowering himself to your spot on the mat. Despite his mess in your mouth he pulls you in for a kiss, though you decline to reply with tongue. You let him take the initiative, kissing you all over until you're once again on your back, trapped by his weight… 

Your eyelids droop, and the world around you becomes… _fuzzy_. That's okay. You can worry about it later. Someone turned the lights off, you belatedly realize, illumination trickling in from a light in a small office room and the door to the hallway. 

"That… was pretty fucking hot," Nora whispers, snuggling up to Ren's back. Once upon a time you would've begrudged the way she sought him out; you're way past that kind of jealousy now. Yang's curling herself around your free arm, the metal of her own pleasurably cool to your skin. She's letting Blake be Big Spoon for once, you deduce. 

_Jāti_ was the term he'd used once, to describe your collective arrangement. ' _He_ ' being Oscar or Ozpin or whatever Oscar-Ozpin entity it had been. A group of souls, bound together, in this life and the next. It'd always been a bit too metaphysical for you. Like Yang, you were fine with calling yourselves 'a group of friends who love each other and save the world and sometimes fuck'. But Ruby had taken a liking to the term, and she had that weird way of making things stick.So here you were, with most of your jāti, limbs and loves entwined, drifting off to sleep. 

You're going to need blankets, in a bit. But for now, you're perfect. 

**Author's Note:**

> So I can't say I'm entirely happy with how this turned out, (particularly with regards to characterization and character dynamics) but I figured I might as well publish it in the off chance that someone derives some enjoyment from it, and so that I can maybe get some experience and feedback. If you leave a comment or review, _je t'aime._
> 
>  
> 
> In the very unlikely event that you're wondering about the use of the phrase _jāti_ , all I can say is that I stole it from Kim Stanley Robinson's _[The Years of Rice and Salt](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Years_of_Rice_and_Salt)_ , and that is how I am employing the term.


End file.
